Anything to Survive
by schwaka
Summary: His old life wasn't much better than his new one, he could only rely on himself. He never thought he could kill, but it's a lot easier than he thought. That's the only thing that keeps you alive, killing. He found them by accident, he could rely on them for the most part. Now he'll do what he can to keep them alive too.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N**

 **First Walking Dead story let me know what you guys think. It's AU but will follow most canon as of now, but I will change things at my leisure. If anyone wants to beta read or help me out with some dialogue PM me, I'd appreciate the help.**

 **Rate M for language, violence, and gore.**

 **I don't own anything but my OC**

* * *

The sun was barely up, crickets still chirping when he felt something hit his face. He tried blinking the sleep away before he heard a raspy voice "Pack only what ya need. If ya ain't ready by the time I get back i'm leavin' witout ya. " He heard the front door slam shut before he sat up moved the backpack off his body. He moved slowly, still weary from sleep. He packed his clothes first, then moved to where he kept his hunting gear and picked up his multitool.

He placed his dad's old KA-BAR in the sheath and strapped it to his belt. Then walked to his dresser struggling to budge it to the side. Once he moved it enough he crouched down and removed the loose plank on the floor. Pulling out the shoebox he opened it, removed the pistol, and held it in his hands for a minute. He had found the piece on the edge of a creek bed when he was in the woods a year ago it was caked in mud and what looked like dried blood, so he cleaned it and hid it in the shoebox only taking it out to practice whenever he ventured deep into the woods.

His dad had taken him shooting over the years, quite possibly the only time he showed interest in him. He sighed thinking that was the only time his dad ever showed pride in him. The memories of shooting practice made him feel good, maybe even happy. He squashed his thoughts and placed the pistol and a half empty box of bullets in his bag and went to grab a few water bottles and energy bars. All packed up he sat on his porch waiting for his dad to pull up in his old pickup.

He sat for hours on the top step just waiting wondering what was taking him so long. 'Maybe he just left.' The thought crossed his mind more than once. Either way he would wait, he didn't know what else to do, where he would go. His dad didn't even tell him why he was in such a rush. Just heard him muttering about 'crazy fuckers' attacking people. What was so important that his dad was even awake before noon?

After a few more hours, a rumble of an engine perked him right up. He stood up when he saw the familiar pickup truck. He cringed as the tires squealed, and the truck came to a halt. His eyes went wide for a fraction of a second when his dad whipped open the door, and came barreling towards the trailer clutching his neck. "Fuck out the way." His dad growled as he shoved him out of the way and opened the door to their home. "Fuckin' psycho motherfucker fuckin' bit me." He heard the string of curses coming from the house before he entered careful not to get in his father's way.

He watched as his dad entered the bathroom looking in the mirror to see the severity of the wound. "Shoulda' shot 'im in the fuckin' head." He said to himself before moving to the living room and plopping down on the couch. Minutes passed before his dad looked at him standing in the doorway and sighed deeply. "Get me a fuckin' beer would'ja." He jumped at his father's sudden demand. Taking a second before starting towards the fridge and grabbing a beer. When he got to his father he found him asleep so he placed the beer on the table in front of him and sat on the other end of the couch waiting for his father to wake up.

A little more than an hour and he almost fell asleep before he felt movement on the couch his eyes still bleary, but he could see his father was awake and standing up. The man was making an odd sound and he wiped his eyes to see his father stumbling towards him. His eyes went wide when he looked into his father's eyes his once dark pools of brown filled with nothing but hate, were now a cloudy yellow void. The sounds of teeth gnashing and vicious snarling filled the room. He willed his body to move, to do anything. He could only sit there as his father tripped over himself and landed face first into the floor, before grabbing at the couch to pull himself onto it. Teeth were inches away from his legs before he found the strength to push himself backwards falling over the arm of the sofa. He scooted backwards until he hit the end of the trailer, buying himself a few feet of distance. He had to do something. His father was climbing over the arm tumbling onto the floor one limb at a time until his weight was uneven, and he came crashing down to the floor still crawling never ceasing his advance. 'Do something, do something' he yelled at himself, pleaded with himself. He breathed in as deep as he could pulling into a crouch and steeled himself. His hands found his knife and he pulled it from the sheath and looked at the all black blade. He let the air in his lungs out all at once and lunged at his father and shuddered when he felt his father's skull give in to the force of the blade.

He tried to stand only for his legs to buckle. He stared down at the dripping blade then at the lifeless body of his dad. He stood up and swallowed the liquid that threatened to spew out, he felt like he could breathe again. He sighed looked down, and shook his head. "Should'a shot 'im in the head."

'What the hell am I supposed to do now?' He sat on the couch and felt his eyes grow heavy and resigned himself to sleep. A few hours passed before he stirred, stretching his arms, and wiping his eyes. Sitting up he looked around. He saw the corpse by the wall. 'Wasn't dreamin'.' Despite everything that happened that morning, that was the best sleep he ever got.

* * *

It's been a week, maybe two he can't tell. There was a decent amount of food in the kitchen, so he didn't go hungry, not that he ate much to begin with. Now, he was running low which means going to get more food or find somewhere else to stay and start rationing. His dad must have had a plan, he checked his room, and his truck and found nothing but gas cans and two cases of water in the bed of the truck and a box of ammo under the front seat. The only place left to check was his body. He paced around the trailer, he really didn't want to go near his father's body again. It took awhile, but he worked himself up to check. He looked down at the man. He didn't like him, but he's all he had.

Patting him down he found some things. A map, keys, his zippo, and his gun. He checked the magazine, fully loaded. He opened the map on the floor, his father had traced a route going to Atlanta. He sighed and looked down at his father's body. 'Guess I'll listen to ya one last time.'

He grabbed his backpack and checked to see if his knife was in place, before making his way to the pickup. He was too short to reach the pedals and still see, so he went back to his room and grabbed his shoebox, and found another one in his dad's closet. He secured them to the pedals and was relieved it worked. He laid the map out on the passenger seat, and turned the key in the ignition. Greeted by the rumbling of the engine, he pressed down on the gas. He almost jumped when it lurched forward, and grumbled to himself. 'Din't even put it in park.'

He drove for a while before he had to stop and check the map. Thankfully there was no one else driving, don't know what someone would've done if they saw him driving. It was a long way to Atlanta, he had no idea how long it would take. After figuring out which direction to go in he set off again.

He had to pull over too tired to see clearly, he decided to stop in a clearing on the side of the road and rest for the night. He ate half a can of tuna and studied the map some more, trying to burn it to memory. He fell asleep reading the map, laid across the front seat.

The sun wasn't even out yet when he was woken up by banging on the window. His eyes shot open, and sat up quickly thinking someone was trying to get his attention. He went wide-eyed when he saw half a dozen of those things surrounding the truck. He turned the key in the ignition in panic, and floored it. His heart stopped when the truck wouldn't budge, just ripping into the soft earth in a valiant effort to move. He let off the gas and breathed out "Fuck."

He hesitated going for his knife until he remembered what was in the glove compartment. He pulled his dad's pistol from where he placed it, clicked the safety off, cocked it, and slid the rear window open. He rushed out and climbed to the roof trying his best to assess the situation, while they all moved to the front of the truck. He took aim and a breath before firing. One. He aimed again. Two. Again. Three. Four. Five. Six. S'easier then huntin'.' He clicked the safety back on and tucked it in his waistband before going in through the window he went out. He grabbed the floor mats, and moved for the trapped wheels. After getting back on the road he grabbed the mats and got back in the truck. He drove forward and saw more than a dozen of them stumbling towards the car. 'They must'a heard.'

Flooring the car he ran through one of them and kept on going. He needed to make it to Atlanta. He had no other options, no idea what to do. He didn't even know what he was going to do in Atlanta, or why his dad wanted to go there in the first place. All he knew was what was on the map, his dad was smarter than he was so there was no point in coming up with a plan of his own.

* * *

With the gas in the bed the truck lasted another two and a half weeks before he was out. He got smarter at hiding the truck when he slept. Only ran into those things on four more occasions. He found a box of protein bars in a broken down car which kept him going for a while. He found he could ration one a day, which bought him precious time. He knew he would have to hunt soon, but he wanted to wait for the gas to run out since he would be on foot anyway. He loved hunting, the woods were more his home than the dingy trailer he left behind.

He walked along the highway, then stopped and stared at the mess of cars strewn across the road. 'Would'a had to get out anyway.' He continued through the litter of cars pausing to search through some for food or water. He found a jug for a water cooler and drank as much as he could and filled the four empty bottles he brought. No food though, which meant hunting was a must. He walked for a couple more hours until he started getting hungry. 'Should'a went huntin' fore' I got hungry.' He climbed over the guardrail and started into the woods.

When he got deep enough he grabbed three long sticks, and started sharpening them. It took a while, but the spears he made should be enough to get some small critters. He walked for a while looking for tracks and in trees for anything that would make a good meal. It was an hour before he saw a squirrel paused on the bark of a tree. He stopped immediately, creeping closer until he was sure he could hit it. He took aim, and threw one of his spears. He smirked to himself he saw the spear bounce of the trunk and fall to the ground with the squirrel attached to the end.

He wrapped the squirrel in a shirt and placed it in his bag. He was about to put his bag on when he heard twigs snap around. There were five of those things shambling towards him, boxing him in. He was shaking and he didn't know why. It was like he used to feel when his dad was drinking and he heard him get angry. 'Stop. Stop. Pa always said don't be no pussy. Ya ain't no pussy.' He spun around trying to see which one was closest. He picked up the spear he used for the squirrel and chucked it. Picking up another as the first hit it's mark. He let the second loose and picked up his last spear. He growled as he realized they were too close to throw anything at them. He backed up trying to get them to line up. One was in front of the last two who were shoulder to shoulder. He tightened his grip on the spear, rammed it forward, and ripped it back. It fell to the ground with a hole gaped in it's head. He slowed his retreat to allow the other two to get a little closer. He went for the one on the left first. He jabbed the spear forward again, but before he could pull it back, the one on the right grabbed for him. He jumped back and almost screamed when his foot caught on something sending him into the ground hard. Air knocked out of him and he gasped for it back, scooting backwards. The thing came tumbling after him apparently tripping over whatever tripped him. His back hit a tree and he found himself cornered. 'Ya never learn huh?' He cursed himself under his slowly regaining breath. He ripped his knife from its holster, and walked his back up the tree. The thing was on its knees trying to stand up on its flopping ankle. He breathed in, and lunged one hand on its chest pushing it backwards, other hand stabbing into its forehead. As they landed back on the ground, he kept stabbing, seeing his father's face, he stabbed, and stabbed, and stabbed. He turned the knife around and handle first he bashed the knife into the things head. He couldn't stop, bashing and bashing until he felt a tear roll down his cheek.

He ran an arm across his face and stood up looking down, the things head was just a pile of pulp. 'Ya ain't no pussy.' He staggered back to his backpack, and slung it over his shoulder. He started towards the direction of the highway, he was close to the city only a couple hours to go. He wanted to get out of the woods and sighed in relief when he saw a road, deciding to get out of the trees he walked towards it. Walking along the road he saw a large building, it looked like a warehouse or a factory. He got to the front and saw 'Pump Station' written across the top of the building. "Water!" He smiled a genuine smile when he thought about going for a swim and cleaning off.

The road split off in two, the left seemed to go along the ridge, so he chose that direction. The road going down the rock face seemed to go on forever. When he got close to the bottom he saw movement, something running so he took out his knife walked slowly keeping quiet. He heard laughter and flinched. 'Tha' fuck was that' He took a breath and started walking again. A twig snapped under his foot and he cursed to himself, before his eyes went wide when he heard screaming.

"Mom! Shane!" He heard a boy scream in panic. One minute a boy and a girl were running around the next they disappeared behind the brush, screaming their lungs out. He slowly pushed past the brush. He was halfway out when he heard a cocking to his left and froze. He looked to his left and saw a man with a shotgun and a badge pinned to his belt. 'Fuck.' He's seen what cops did to his father so he mimicked his father's movements. He sighed and put his hands behind his head and got on his knees. He knew he was in trouble, he must have killed twenty of those things, not even counting that he killed his dad.

* * *

(Shane's Pov)

"Aight' Glenn you got the list, you think you can find it all in the city?" Shane asked an Asian guy with a ballcap.

"Yeah there's a couple spots I haven't hit yet, should be able to get everything." Glenn assured him. He looked shaky obviously not liking the idea of going back into the infested city. Shane was about to say something when he heard a scream that sent shivers down his spine.

"Mom! Shane!" He grabbed his shotgun and ran for the source of the screams. He passed Carl and Sophia and pushed them towards the camp. "Go to your mothers. Now!" He kept running until he saw a bush rustling. A head poked out, it was covered in blood and guts on the top of his head and his shoulders. He saw a leg come out. 'Fuck he's barely taller than Carl.' He cocked the gun and all the muscles in his arms tensed, he urged himself to pull the trigger. 'Used to be a kid. No older than Carl.' His breath hitched in his throat when he saw the walker look at him and put his hands behind his head and got on his knees. "What the fuck?" He stared as the kid looked away and stared straight ahead 'Walkers don't fuckin' do that.' "You alive?" He was met with silence as the kid just stared straight ahead.

* * *

"What the fuck?" He heard to his left. He was definitely in trouble. 'Shit!' He yelled at himself. He should have been more careful. He should have scouted, but he was so excited about the prospect of not having to worry about water. It was a stupid mistake and now he was gonna pay for it. "You alive?" he heard the cop almost scream at him. 'Is he dumb?' Why wouldn't he be alive?

"Answer me or I'm gonna' have to fuckin' shoot!" He gulped as he heard the cop scream and he looked back at him then behind the cop. He saw at least ten people behind the cop, mouths wide open. He looked the cop in the eyes. "Lawyer." He said and turned his head to stare in front of him. His head jolted back in the cop's direction when he heard boisterous laughing coming from an old guy in a vest.

"Holee' Shiet' that is fuckin' gold" The old guy had a hand on a younger guy's shoulder. "Please tell me yer' seein' what I'm seein' liddol brother" The younger guy just stared at him over the cop's shoulder with a wide smile.

"Shane stop he's not one of them!" Some lady came running towards the cop and put a hand on his gun. The cop lowered the weapon and started inching towards him. He put one of his hands in front of him still traipsing forward.

"You mind puttin' that knife down son?" Shane still had his hand up, and he looked at him. He shook his head and shoved his knife in his holster, then clasped his hands back together behind his head. He saw the cop nodding.

"Okay that's fine for now, why don't you stand up and come over here?" He looked at Shane up and down, and relented. He stood up and slowly walked towards the cop stopping a couple feet away from him. "Are you okay? What the hell happened to you?" He looked at the ground. His dad told him not to talk to cops without a lawyer. That's how they 'lock yer' ass up.' "Hey kid what's your name? Where're your parents?" He looked back up at Shane, eyes a little wider.

"Lawyer." He said not breaking eye contact.

"It doesn't exactly work that way anymore son." Shane went to put a hand on his shoulder, and he jumped back and growled low. "Alright, alright no problem." Shane ran a hand through his hair and looked at the woman who had run up to him. "I don't know what to do here Lori."

The woman, Lori walked up to him crouched a little to meet his eyes and smiled faintly. "Why don't we get you cleaned up sweetie. You could use a good wash." She reached for his hand and before he knew it he took it. Her hand was a little shaky like she was scared or something. She led him to a bathing area. "If you need any help I'll be right outside ok, Do you have any clothes?" She had a hand on his shoulder and he looked into her eyes. He slid the backpack off his shoulders and pulled out a change of clothes. She nodded and smiled "Ok, like I said I'll be right outside." She touched his cheek and he flinched a little. She looked at him for a second longer before leaving him to wash.

He got dressed and made his way back to the main camp. He paused when he heard people talking ahead. He could make out Shane's voice, but not the others'. "I mean what the fuck was that, the kid looked like he bathed in walker guts." Shane said and he walked a little closer trying to keep hidden so he could see who was talking and what they were saying.

"We don't know what he's been through or how long he's been out there, we need to give him some time. All that blood, it had to be something terrible." An older man, older than his father was spoke. He inched forward some more peering around a tent.

He froze when he heard movement behind him. "Ya ain't as sneaky as ya think ya are." His shoulders slumped, it was the old man who was laughing earlier. "Ya ever get tha' lawyer ya asked fer?" He asked chuckling to himself. He looked at the old man and shook his head. "Ya really should work on bein' more stealthy like." The old man chuckled walking away.

He sighed and rounded the tent, wanting to get this over with. He made it all the way to one of the logs before the older man talking to Shane jumped when he noticed him followed by Shane and the black guy. "Jesus kid announce yourself next time, sneakin' around's a good way to get shot." Shane said eyebrows furrowed before his face lightened, as if he realized something. "Uh, look if you don't feel like talking why don't you just go catch some shut eye. You can bunk with Glenn if you want. He's the Korean kid, his tent's set up next to the RV." Shane stared at him for a minute and sighed when he saw he wasn't going to talk. "Aight well you're gonna have to talk eventually, but I guess we'll give you some adjustin' time. Go on get some sleep."

He looked at Shane for a second and turned on his heels. He was going to walk towards the edge of camp when he saw another fire away from the main camp. 'Need'a cook my squirrel.' He approached the fire and groaned when he saw the old joker from before.

"Well lookee' here liddol brother we got ourselves a houseguest. Better make yerself presentable Darlyna." The old man yelled back towards a tent.

"Fuck off Merle." His brother came out the tent and stopped when he saw the little boy standing by the fire. "The hell he want?" He asked his brother pointing at the boy.

"How the hell should I know? Why don't you ask him Daryl?" Merle motioned toward him while looking at Daryl. He took this as his cue to point at the fire. Daryl looked at him and spit at the ground. "Well, get to it then." He set his bag down and took out the wrapped shirt. He could feel their eyes watching him. He put the shirt on the ground and grabbed a stick laying on the ground. He took out his knife and started sharpening it. It only took a minute before he poked the end to test it. Merle had lit a cigarette and was watching him with a raised eyebrow. He grabbed the shirt and unwrapped it laying it on a log. He heard Merle chuckle. "Catch that on yer own?" He stared at him for a couple seconds and nodded. "How'd ya kill it?" He grabbed the stick and raised it before setting it down. "Well I'll be damned Darlyna we got ourselves a bonafide Caucasian spearchucker over here." He went back to work on the squirrel and cut it open, placing bits of meat on the stick. He set the stick leaning on the edge of the fire. "Who taught ya?" He looked at him then back at the fire. "You fuckin' mute er sumthin'?" Merle snarled at him.

He looked at him then back at the fire again and spoke under his breath. "Kids listen, they don't talk."

He grabbed a bottle of water from his bag. He took a sip from the bottle and risked looking at Merle. His face was softer.

"Who the fuck tol' you tha'." Daryl growled from his chair, picking at his nails.

"Pa." He spoke low almost whispering. He picked up the stick and bit a piece of meat off.

"And where the hell is he?" Merle asked his voice wasn't rough anymore.

He looked Merle in the eyes and bit another piece off, and took a sip of water gulping it down. "I killed 'im."

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 **Reviews help, speak your mind, I may or may not use suggestions as I have a baseline for how I want the story to go.**


	2. Chapter 2

"I killed 'im."

Merle exhaled slow as he stared into the boy's eyes, he smirked when he saw a sharpness in them. "Before or after?" He raised an eyebrow. Sensing his confusion Merle added. "The geeks. The freaky fuckers eatin' people."

He shrugged his shoulders softly. "Tried'a eat me."

Merle sneered at the ground, then looked at Daryl. "Well shit, wish I woulda had a chance to put down our dear old daddy." Daryl grunted. He didn't know what the grunt meant. He took the chance to finish off the meat in the silence that followed. He grabbed his water and stopped mid sip. "Wha's ya name boy?" Merle shifted his attention back to the boy.

"Ya ask a lotta questions mister." He scrunched his brows looking at Merle. He looked and talked like one of his dad's friends, which meant he was probably an asshole, but the sense of familiarity kept his mind off of everything else going on.

Merle shrugged. "Fair 'nough." He brought his mind back to his cigarette and chuckled silently. His brother looked at him with a raised eyebrow. Merle either didn't see or paid him no mind. Daryl switched his target to the boy watching him put the bottle in his, and sling it over his shoulder.

"Wha's _yer_ name?" He asked glancing at Merle.

Merle flicked his cigarette away from the area and looked at him with a straight face. "Merle Dixon." He grabbed the squirrel, stood up, and walked over to Merle and dropped the rest of the squirrel on his lap. Merle met his eyes as he looked up.

"Robert Gamble." He turned on his heels and walked through the camp passing the RV. He opened the tent flap and peered in. He was greeted by snoring coming from the Korean guy, face down on his cot, arm hanging over the edge. 'Not sleepin' in there.' He spotted some rope on the ground and decided to borrow it for the night. He closed the tent and walked towards the treeline. He picked a tree that looked like it had sturdy branches, and wiped his hands on his jeans. It took less than a minute before he reached a comfortable looking branch. He settled down and started wrapping the rope around his legs. It took a while for him to fall asleep, he struggled to keep his mind blank. Finally, his eyes glazed over and his breaths settled in a rhythm while he fell asleep.

His nose wriggled as a familiar scent wafted into his nostrils. He opened his eyes and saw his dad sitting on the edge of the branch, legs dangling smoking a cigarette. "You jus' gon' sleep all damn day boy." His dad didn't even look at him. His breath hitched and he tried to scurry backwards, only to find his back was against the trunk. "I killed you." He said trying to convince himself. He couldn't breathe, just stared at the profile of his father. His father exhaled a hefty amount of smoke, and turned his head to face his son smiling. His eyes enlarged when he saw those same yellow voids and the gaping hole in his forehead. Blood was pouring from his mouth as he smiled before he opened it. "Yeah ya did."

He shot awake and screamed before stifling it with deep breaths. He sat for a few more minutes regaining his composure before going for the knot in the rope. He declined the side of the tree and rounded it to head back to the camp. He jumped when he saw someone sitting on the other side of the tree. His nose wriggled again. "Ya talk in ya sleep. Jus' so ya know." Merle looked over his shoulder at him, cigarette hanging from his lips. "Don't worry ol' Merle ain't gon' say a word." Merle chuckled before his face steeled. "Ya ain't the only one hadda kill somebody."

There was a moment of silence until he grunted at the old man, and started his walk to camp again. Merle smirked at him out of view, and he heard the old man get up behind him and dust himself off. He passed the RV again, and reached the Korean's tent, who was outside of it stretching. He walked up to him, and waited for him to finish stretching a couple feet away. The Korean turned bent over to grab his sneakers and jumped when he saw another pair of feet next to his sneakers. He nearly fell over and looked to meet the other person's face. "Jesus kid make a sound or something next time." He took another breath before a small smile appeared on his face. He held his hand out presumably to shake. "Name's Glenn we haven't met yet, guess you got up before me." His held out hand was met with a rope and the boy walked past him.

"Uh, ok then." He heard from behind him, not paying any mind to it he headed back for the treeline. He was hungry and he wanted to go hunt. He was stopped by the woman from yesterday, Lori. "Hey honey, where you headed?" She smiled down at him. He looked in her eyes for a moment, and turned his head straight again. He was about to take a step, when his stomach grumbled. "Oh are you hungry? Wait here a second." She walked off leaving him a little upset he had to wait. He was already hungry, this was wasting time. A minute later she came back with a can of peaches and a juice box. "Here sweetie this was all I could find. How about after you eat you go find Shane I know he wants to talk to you?" She smiled again as if that was her mouth's default position. It made him a little uncomfortable. He just grunted hoping that was enough to placate her concerns. He doubted he would go see the man. It worked because she walked away after a second. He passed the RV again and saw a young blonde woman talking to a slightly older one who bent over to put on and tie her shoes.

"If you don't hurry up I'm getting breakfast without you." Her eyes left her sister's crouched form when something moved past her. "Oh hi, you're the kid from yesterday. You look a lot less scary when you're clean." She beamed a smile at him, and he stopped in his tracks. His cheeks got warm and he looked at the ground for a moment before he thrust the can and juice box forward at her. She took it looking confused, and he quickened his pace to almost a jog when he turned back to the treeline. He remembered suddenly that he had a spear at the Dixon's camp, which hopefully they didn't throw away.

He saw Merle sitting in his chair smoking another cigarette, and moved to his spot from the previous night. He was grateful they weren't the neat types when he found the spear in the exact spot he left it. "Whatcha' need tha' for huh?" Merle shot at him looking into the distance.

"Food." He shot a curt response back, not really interested in talking to anybody. "Aight den." Merle concluded the conversation, if that's what you could call it. He tightened the straps on his bag before starting towards the woods again. He'd barely woken up and already he was growing tired of people talking to him. He got to the treeline and heard rustling coming from the thicket to his right. He tore his knife out of his sheath. Handicapping himself, he didn't think the cop would be too keen on him having a gun. He waited slightly crouched ready to pounce on the 'geek' as Merle called them, like a lion would its prey. He almost jumped until he recognized the man's face as Merle's brother Daryl. Daryl flinched when he saw him knife in one hand spear in the other. "Hell ya doin' out here?" He grumbled.

He looked at Daryl and saw a string with five squirrels attached wrapped around his waist, and pointed at the them before turning to head into the woods, before he heard him talking again. "Wait." He looked at Daryl again and he saw him studying his face like he was trying to find something wrong. "Ya gon' have'ta go up tha' way ta find anythin' I already cleared out errythin' back here. Don't think anythin' gon come back today." He saw Daryl still studying his face before he nodded at the man and changed course.

He found a lush clearing more than a mile from camp, and grabbed a couple sticks before heading up a tree. He'd wait here for a while to see if anything would come through. It was almost two hours before he praised his luck. A deer had wandered into the clearing, blind to his presence. He grabbed a spear and cursed. 'No way dis'll kill it.' He groaned silently, he'd have to risk using his pistol. Hopefully no one will hear, but he knew that was a slim chance. He'd deal with the repercussions later he couldn't pass this up. He hadn't had good meat in a long time. He silently unhooked his bag from his shoulders and slowly unzipped it. Pulling out the gun he zipped his bag and slipped it back on. He clicked off the safety as quietly as he could and aimed. He waited until the deer raised its head and took his shot. He let out a victorious breath and smiled. The bullet tore through its head and out the side of its jaw. Now to figure out how the hell he was gonna drag this back to camp. He tucked the gun in his waistband. He descended the tree and looked around for some sturdy branches finding nothing he climbed back up a tree and took out his multitool flipping open the mini-saw. He cut three sturdy branches down, and disembarked the tree. He opened his bag and grabbed a jacket, a hoodie, and a blanket. He knotted the branches into a square with one opening using the clothes, and tied the blanket across them making a net of sorts. It took a couple minutes to position the deer across the branches making a makeshift wheelbarrow sans wheel. It took maybe more than an hour to get to the familiar thicket he came through, it was hard to gauge the time he walked. He crossed the treeline when he heard someone speak.

"Well I'll be damned." He locked eyes with the black man from yesterday, who was smiling wide. "Hey! Shane! Come quick!" He yelled over his shoulder. He was going to start walking again when he footsteps headed his way. It sounded like more than just Shane coming over. Merle was the first one over, and when he came into view he had a big toothy grin plastered on his face and slowed his pace. "Darlyna hurry tha' fuck up, ya gon' wanna see this."

Daryl was the next to appear and his eyes were transfixed on the sight before him. "Sumbitch'." He drawled out. He tore his gaze away and looked at Merle, and when he saw his brother flashing his smile he let out a small chuckle and grinned back at his brother.

"What the fuck?" He heard before he realized Shane and Lori standing couple yards across from Daryl. 'Ain't tha' familiar,' remembering the same words from yesterday. "How the hell did you get that?" He looked at Shane like he was stupid. 'Kinda question is tha' I killed it.' He just kept staring at Shane while he heard Daryl and Merle whispering to each other slightly to his left. "Was that you shootin' out there." Shane asked face set in a stern expression. 'Jus' like I thought.' He nodded once, and Shane approached him. "Aight' hand it over." Shane said holding his out expectantly. He dropped the handles holding up the deer. His hand reached behind him placed on his pistol ready to reluctantly hand it over, but stopped when he heard the brothers' conversation end abruptly.

"Hol' the fuck up sheriff, you mean ta tell me, ya gonna take 'is gun away after he dun brought ya a fuckin' feast?" Merle spat at Shane eyes narrowed. He didn't know why Merle was so angry it wasn't his gun that was being taken.

"I ain't havin' kids runnin' around here brandishin' firearms in camp, it ain't safe. Period." Shane countered

Merle threw his hands in the air. "Oh I bet ya gon' be thinkin' bout safety when ya eatin' real swell tonight." Merle gave the boy a sympathetic look before turning around in a huff. He could hear the string of curses that trailed him out of view. Shane looked back at him raised his eyebrows. He sighed and took his gun out. He released the magazine and cleared the chamber, pocketing the magazine and bullet. 'Ya ain't getting' my ammo too.' He slapped the gun into Shane's hand.

Shane watched him handle the gun, and a singular chuckle came out as he watched him clear the chamber. He heard Shane sigh and look from the gun to him. "Aight I'll tell you what, I'll take this now, but we'll talk about this again in a couple days." He met Shane's eyes and nodded before grabbing the handles and lifting the deer again. He started to walk again and heard the black man next to him. "I can take that for you if you want little man." He kept looking straight and shook his head while walking. He veered slightly to the left heading straight for Daryl, who was watching him intently. He made it in front of him, and dropped the deer looking up at Daryl. It would take a while to skin the deer and he was hungry.

"Squirrel." He said meeting Daryl's eyes.

Daryl smirked and a silent laugh came out. "Got tha las' one wrapped in ma bandanna on ma chair." He nodded and set off looking over his shoulder when he heard Daryl grumble at him while picking up the handles for the deer. "Good job little man." He grunted as he walked away heading for the Dixon camp. He was starving after hauling that deer back to camp. He could almost taste that sweet venison though. He arrived at the Dixon section and walked past Merle sitting in his chair. He grabbed the bandanna from Daryl's seat and walked to his spot lighting the fire before sitting down. He was a bout to unwrap the squirrel when he heard Merle muttering. "Ungrateful bastard." He saw Merle look at him. "Guess ya deer huntin' days ar' ova' huh boy?" He raised an eyebrow at Merle before he slipped his backpack off and unzipped it moving a shirt out of the way, grabbing the pistol he got from his shoebox.

He slowly pulled it out still wondering if this was a good idea. "Gotta 'nother one." He said checking to make sure the safety was still on. His face jolted to Merle's when he broke out in a fit of raspy laughter. "Ya betta put tha' away before Officer Doofy ova' ther' takes it from ya." Merle said after his fit ended. He nodded and put the gun back in his bag. He sharpened another stick since he had to leave his spears behind in favor of the deer. Going through his routine, he finished his squirrel and was about to leave before Merle cleared his throat. "Ey." He looked back at Merle. "Good job out ther' Bobby." He said it low but he could hear. He paused for a minute and a small smirk graced his face before he turned and left.

He headed back towards Daryl, to retrieve his clothes and blanket. He wanted to wash his dirty clothes, and now those needed washing as well. Daryl nodded at him not stopping the process of skinning the deer. He just grabbed his stuff and went for the water. He passed the RV and saw the older man on top of it rifle in his hands. He must have noticed him. "Hold on a second son." He heard coming from the old man's perch. He watched as the older man climbed down and faced him. "Just thought I should introduce myself, and thank you for the next couple of meals I suppose." He held a hand out to the boy. "My name's Dale." He looked at Dale's outstretched hand and hesitated before shaking it. "What's your name?" Dale asked. He turned and walked towards the water. Dale looked at the retreating boy for a moment before returning to his watch. When he got to the water all the women were there washing clothes. They were all chatting away in their own world. A woman with short gray hair, a black woman... and the two blondes. He gulped, but pushed forward. He realized he would need a bucket. He saw one next to the woman with the short hair. He pulled out the clothes from his bag and walked towards her. They didn't notice him standing there so he put his clothes down, and poked her in the shoulder lightly. She almost jumped out of her, while the others let out a gasp before the younger blond started laughing.

The short haired woman took a breath. "Sorry honey, you scared me. Did you need something?" She smiled at him warmly. He pointed at the bucket, and she noticed his clothes on the ground. "Oh are those dirty? Give them here I'll take care of it." He shook his head and kept pointing at the bucket. She smiled a little deeper. "You can use it, it's an extra in case someone else gets put on laundry duty." He grabbed the bucket and walked a few steps to the water to fill it up. He placed the filled bucket down and went for his clothes. "You know they caught a deer. We should have enough for everyone to be filled for a while." She said looking at him. He caught her eye and nodded. "Guess the Dixon boy's hunt went better than expected." She was more talking to everyone else. "Sophia'll be happy she's been sick of squirrel for weeks." She smiled thinking of her daughter's happiness.

"I should thank you by the way for breakfast little man." Said the younger blond startling him making him drop the shirt he was washing in the bucket. He glanced at her for a split second seeing her watching him. He nodded at the bucket. "I'm Amy by the way." She got up and walked over to him holding out a hand. These people sure seemed to like shaking hands, or talking in general. He stood staring at the ground, but shook her hand. "That's my sister, Andrea." She said pointing at the blond. "That's Carol and that's Jacqui." She said pointing at the short haired woman, and the black woman respectively. "So what's your name?" She asked, crouching down so he would meet her eyes.

"R-Robert." He stuttered, cursing himself as he did, and he hurriedly went back to his dirty clothes when he felt his cheeks warm up.

He saw Andrea whispering to Amy in the corner of his eye, and Andrea chuckled before stopping herself. He washed his clothes as quick as he could before he dumped the bucket, and returned it to Carol. He lingered next to Carol for a second, and she looked at him and smiled. "Um, thank you." He said before rushing off to find somewhere to hang his clothes.

He'd just finished hanging up his clothes when a boy his age came running up to him looking excited beyond belief. "Is it true you killed the deer?" He asked smiling wide. He nodded and the boy's eyes widened. "Whoa, that's so cool! How did it look up close? Were you scared? I heard my mom say you dragged it all the way from the woods. Who taught you how to do all that?" He shifted uncomfortably, and almost cried in joy when he heard Lori yelling, "Carl! Carl!" She rushed over to the boy. "What did I tell you about staying in my sight huh?" She admonished him, grabbing his arm. He cringed a little thinking she was going to hit him. "Sorry mom." The boy moaned. "You need to listen, it's too dangerous for you to be running off on your own." Her eyes moved to Robert. "You ok over here, if you're bored we have some books by the RV." He shook his head. "Well keep it in mind, and thank you for the deer. I never got a chance to talk with you, I know everyone appreciates it." He nodded and turned to retreat, before he could be bombarded with more questions.

He'd spent the next few hours sitting against the tree making spears and sharpening his knife, until Daryl came up to him. "Come get sum dinner firs' piece is yer's." He nodded and stood up to follow. He got to the campfire and almost everyone was there waiting for the deer to be served. "There betta not be none missin', ya kill ya get firs' piece, rules a huntin'." Daryl hollered so everyone could hear. Carol passed a plate to Daryl smiling at him "Thank you for the food Daryl." She said. A chorus of 'Daryl' went around except for a few people in the circle who looked confused until they realized no one told the others. Daryl looked at the plate confused before reaching it out to Robert. "Don' know why ya'll thankin' me for, all's I caught were squirrels." He grabbed the plate and started walking to his tree. He heard everyone talking over his shoulder, but paid no mind, he had a big ol' slab of venison to attend to. He nearly swallowed his food whole before he cursed himself, remembering he gave the rope back to Glenn. He sighed and was about to head to his tent before he decided to try someone else.

Merle was half-asleep with a cigarette between his fingers, when he tried his best to make as little noise as possible. He got a couple yards from Merle before he heard him grumble. "Tha hell ya want boy?" He sucked his teeth 'Guess he wasn't sleepin'.' He stood up straight foregoing the stealthy approach. "Got any rope?" He asked low. He hated asking people for things, he needed to be able to get whatever he needed on his own. Merle opened one of his eyes, staring at him for a moment, studying his face like his brother had done. Probably learned it from Merle. He got up from his chair and went into his tent. Less than a minute later he came out with a heavy duty rope. "Dis' ain't no handout. Call it payment fa the doe ya brought back." Merle tossed the rope to him and sat down. He nodded at Merle with a grunt and started for his tree. He climbed up and settled in. He tied himself down and relaxed his body. He looked out over the camp, you could see everything from up here. He gazed over to the campfire, everyone still gathered and jabbering on. As he watched them he couldn't help but wonder how they were still alive, they looked soft. Sure a couple of them looked like they could handle themselves, but for the most part he didn't know how they survived this long.

He thought back to what Merle said this morning. 'Ya ain't the only one hadda kill somebody.' He could believe Merle's killed, Daryl too. He could even believe Merle's killed before the 'geeks'. These people though, he didn't think they'd be alive if it wasn't for Shane. It made him look at Shane in a new light. 'Still a cop.' He reminded himself. He kept watching as the crowd died down, and people started trickling into their tents. The more he watched the more peaceful he felt. He watched until his eyes glazed over and sleep took him.

 **A/N**

 **And there you have Bobby's first day in the camp. As for what he looks like I pictured Logan Williams, who played the young Barry Allen in The Flash. He's a couple inches taller than Carl, about five feet. I'm loving writing this story and hope you guys are enjoying it too. Please let me know what you guys think. I was also thinking about adding in conversations that happen when Bobby's not in earshot, so let me know if you guys wanna see the extra dialogue, and yes Bobby will open up over time he won't always be the quiet loner he is now. Over the next chapter or two I'll be getting up to the start of season 1. Thanks for reading guys!**


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